


Limits Of Trust

by Suzie_Shooter



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Bloodplay, Breathplay, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzie_Shooter/pseuds/Suzie_Shooter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Holed up in a miserable apartment waiting for a messenger who never arrives, it may have been a mistake for Alex to complain he was bored…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limits Of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Hostage of Love by Razorlight - _"I am salvation, Am your herald of sin, I take you beyond, Your limits of trust."_

They'd been stuck in the apartment for a week now, waiting for the contact to make - well - contact. Having been staring at the same set of walls for six days, fifteen hours and - Alex looked at his watch for the fifth time that hour - thirty three minutes, he could officially say it was starting to wear on his nerves. 

It was just so _grey_. Drab grey walls, grey threadbare carpet, grey sky outside, grey towerblocks the only view.

Yassen wouldn't let him go out, even at night, in case he was seen and compromised their location. It was alright for him, Alex had thought sulkily. He had more patience.

Now though, he could tell that even the Russian's usually implacable calm was starting to show the cracks. He'd caught Yassen looking at his watch, when normally he could tell you the time without even a glance at it. And he was pacing. Although when Alex suggested this, he'd slammed him against the wall and held him there by the throat until he took it back.

"He's not coming." 

Yassen glared at Alex, slouched on the sofa, and kicked his feet off the low table.

"You have become somehow psychic?" 

Alex rolled his eyes. "He's a _week_ late. Something's happened."

"We wait."

"I'm _bored_."

Expecting Yassen to tell him to shut up. Or gag him. He'd done that before, when Alex had gotten on his nerves. Alex was willing to take the risk. At least getting Yassen's full attention would alleviate the boredom, even if it did manifest itself violently and painfully.

But Yassen was just staring at him. Alex squirmed, wondering what he was thinking.

"Aren't _you_?" he persisted, more for the sake of something to break the loaded silence with than from any hope of getting Yassen to agree with him.

"You want me to find you a way of passing the time?" asked Yassen finally, casually. Too casually. Alex's guard was up immediately. 

"Fuck yes." Folded his arms and looked as sulky as possible.

Yassen's eyes narrowed, the only outward sign of his displeasure. Alex tried to hold his gaze, and found he couldn't. The silence was worse than an admonition, it meant worse things to come. Or better, depending on how you looked at it.

Then to his surprise, Yassen held out his hand. 

"Come."

"Where?" Taking the hand anyway, letting Yassen pull him to his feet.

Yassen didn't reply, just lead Alex into the bedroom, fingers circling his wrist tightly.

"Take your clothes off."

"What?" Alex grinned, but Yassen wasn't smiling. 

"If I have to ask again - "

The threat was clear. Alex nodded, starting to strip obediently. He knew roughly how far he could push Yassen, and when it was a good idea to start doing as he was told. The trouble was the roughly part, and miscalculating had earned him a good few bruises.

Although, he conceded, even those were generally worth it for the way Yassen would kiss them later, when he'd recovered his mood and considered Alex had learnt his lesson. Knew deliberately pushing the Russian was a stupid thing to do, but sometimes couldn't help himself.

He was naked now, standing before Yassen's assessing gaze, wondering what was coming.

His body was pale and slim. Yellowing bruises along the lines of his hips would, had Yassen placed his hands there, have fitted his fingertips perfectly. There was a darker bruise on his left calf - for once not inflicted by Yassen, but from where he'd walked into the table the previous day. He'd upset a drink, and Yassen had backhanded him across the face for his clumsiness. 

Yassen drew out of his pocket something that looked like a thick piece of string. Held it up for Alex to see, and he realised it was a pair of thin leather thongs. 

Wondered briefly how long Yassen had been carrying them around, and decided he didn't want to know.

"Lie on the bed." 

Alex promptly jumped onto the mattress and held his hands out as if to be handcuffed. 

Yassen laughed then, a flicker of genuinely fond amusement at his eagerness and willingness to be bound. 

"Above you," he said, softly this time, and Alex raised his arms, letting Yassen tie first one and then the other wrist to the metal bed frame. 

Alex pulled experimentally. They were tight, as he'd expected, biting into his flesh. He could already tell they'd leave a mark.

Watched in silence as Yassen removed his own clothes now, carefully and unhurriedly folding them and placing them on the chair. Saw him cast a critical look at Alex's clothes left in a heap on the floor, and shake his head slightly, without looking up.

Alex felt his mouth go dry, belatedly realising he should have picked them up. One way or the other, this was going to hurt. 

Quite how much only started to dawn on him when before placing his trousers on the pile, Yassen drew out from the pocket a folded clasp knife.

Without a word, he crossed to the bed, where Alex was lying on his back, hands tied above his head, wide eyed with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation.

Yassen opened the knife, carefully, deliberately. It snicked into place with a click that seemed loud in the silent room; the only other thing Alex could hear was the sudden rushing of blood in his own ears.

Blood that seemed suddenly more precious than it had a second ago.

Yassen settled himself astride Alex's thighs, supporting most of his weight on his own knees but pressing down enough to hold Alex in place.

For a second he just drank in the sight of Alex tied and pinned beneath him, and his cock rose steadily between his legs.

Alex, too, was growing hard, anticipation turning into full blown arousal at the sight of Yassen promising pain and pleasure without uttering so much as a word.

Yassen studied him for a long moment, and then without dropping his gaze stroked the flat of the blade across Alex's thigh, first one side then the other. 

Alex held his breath, eyes bright and wide, wondering when the faint scratch of cold metal would bite into his flesh.

But Yassen held the knife up, away from him, and leaned forwards until his face was on a level with Alex's.

"Do you trust me, Alex?" he whispered, holding the boy's unblinking gaze.

Alex nodded immediately, although found himself unable to summon the breath to say it out loud.

Yassen brought the knife back into their line of vision. 

"I'm going to cut you Alex. Do you understand?"

"...yes." It came out as a hesitant croak, but Yassen nodded.

"It is better that you remain still. If you try to struggle or move away, I may go deeper than I mean to. Yes?"

"Yes." Alex's first thought was that at least Yassen didn't mean to kill him, and then wondered distantly why the fact that he might have didn't alarm him more.

Then Yassen's lips were on his, warm and reassuring and all too fleeting as he pulled away once more, and Alex knew it was because _this_ was the man he would willingly surrender everything to.

Settling back against Alex's legs, Yassen considered the pale, lightly freckled body laid out before him. Moistened his lips slightly, Alex catching just the merest glimpse of the tip of his tongue. It made his cock lurch and Yassen half-smiled, just a twist of his lips.

Yassen reached out, the knife held easily in his hand. Alex felt the tip make contact with his chest, just above his right nipple, and couldn't stop a tremor running through his body. Yassen paused, eyes hooded, and Alex mastered himself, holding himself still, or as still as he could manage. Yassen could see the taut skin above his heart moving with the wildly pounding beat beneath, and licked his lips again, unconsciously.

Drew the knife down, around the nipple, in a wide circle, not yet breaking the skin, but leaving a livid red scratch in its wake.

Alex's eyelids fluttered closed and Yassen smiled. Carried on trailing the knife in random patterns across the boy's chest and belly, sometimes the barest tickle, sometimes leaving a hard red line tracing its passage. Alex was breathing hard, eyes closed, fully, painfully aroused. 

Then Yassen drew the tip of the knife up the shaft of Alex's cock, heard the tiny intake of breath. But Alex still held himself motionless.

"Alex. I want you to watch this."

Alex opened his eyes, half fearful. But the knife had returned to his chest, to the point where it had started, just above his nipple.

He fancied he could feel the whole path of the knife so far fizzing across his skin in whorls and loops, as if Yassen had been drawing on his skin in pure sensation.

Watched in transfixed fascination as Yassen applied gentle pressure to the blade. Saw the moment his skin parted, the red beads of blood welling up and following the edge of the knife as if being sucked up by the metal.

It was a full couple of seconds before the pain registered, a stinging jolt that felt more like an electric shock. He felt briefly dizzy, and then Yassen bent forward and sucked at the cut, tongue rough against his sensitised skin, licking along the trail of blood. 

In this position his erection was pressed against Alex's own, making him groan.

Yassen promptly sat back and Alex groaned again, bereft, as the contact was removed. He watched Yassen move the knife into the other hand, to the other side of his chest, dangling briefly above his heart. 

A second cut, matching the first, skin parting as obediently as before. 

The knife was very sharp, and Yassen barely had to press down at all. Alex realised for the first time how much control he'd had _not_ to break the skin accidentally before now. 

Yassen's mouth was back on his skin, suckling at the shallow cut, making the spike of pain flare brightly as if all Alex's nerve endings were match heads flaring into life one from the other.

The point of the knife was in the centre of his chest now, and Yassen drew a line down to his stomach, a stinging scarlet stain welling up in its wake, treacherous lifeblood looking for escape. 

Alex was panting; fast, shallow breaths, trying to use only the top of his lungs, to keep his lower body utterly still. The effect was to make him lightheaded, and the wash of pain seemed to flood throughout his body, raising goosebumps on his skin and making his cock throb with an urgent demand for attention.

He watched Yassen draw the knife down towards his groin, for all the world as if he was unzipping him, and realised with a shock that he _wanted_ the Russian to keep going, _wanted_ him to cut into his cock, because that would mean Yassen's mouth would follow.

He got his wish a moment later, the knife pressed lightly to the side of his shaft, where it briefly paused. Yassen didn’t look up, didn’t acknowledge Alex's eyes on him at all, but the fleeting second's choice was there. But Alex kept silent, teeth gritted, and Yassen _pressed_.

Alex half-whimpered, he couldn’t help it. Blood trickled down his cock, the tiniest of lines, and then Yassen's mouth was there, lapping it away, sucking at him, up and down the shaft, cleaning all traces away, making Alex groan again, this time with pleasure, and when he sat back there was no trace of blood, had cut so shallowly it had closed over already.

Alex was shuddering all over now, couldn’t stop himself, and Yassen perhaps acknowledged this, as he closed the knife with a snap and set it carefully to one side, still within reach. 

He met Alex's eyes for the first time since he'd started cutting, and gave him a hard, hungry smile. 

Shifted his position, pushing Alex's legs apart and kneeling between them instead. Alex, divining his intent, immediately raised his knees invitingly and Yassen snorted.

"You are a whore." 

The cold tone did nothing to calm Alex's shivering. He felt hot and cold all at once, almost feverish. The knife marks on his body had mostly stopped bleeding, but felt tight now, as if he was bound in spider-silk. 

Yassen slid his hands under Alex's thighs, raised and parted them further, shifting closer. Alex could feel Yassen's swollen cock pressing between his legs and threw his head back in longing abandon.

When Yassen finally penetrated him, he cried out in wordless emotion, hardly sure any more whether what he felt was pleasure, pain, love, hate, or a mixture of all four. Perhaps, above everything else, what he felt was sheer, dizzying _need_.

Thrusting roughly inside him, Yassen sprawled forwards across Alex's body, breaking open some of the fragile clotting and making him bleed again. But what took Alex's attention away from the fresh blood was Yassen's hand around his throat.

"You need to learn," Yassen breathed, plunging hard into him on every other word. "How to behave. You are clumsy, untidy, impatient, wanton, rude, sulky – "

To emphasise each point he drove his rigid cock further into Alex's body, and tightened the fingers around Alex's windpipe.

Things were starting to go fuzzy. All Alex could feel was Yassen filling him, fucking him, choking him. His body seemed to have been wrapped in barbed wire, and he couldn’t understand how it felt so good.

A darkness seemed to encroach on the edge of his vision, and he dimly recognised that he was going to die. 

His mind refused to accept that Yassen would be so careless as to kill him by accident. Which meant he intended this.

Alex gave himself up to the surge of the blood fighting round his body, the air fighting to get into his lungs. 

He'd always known he would probably die sooner rather than later. It was fitting, somehow, that it should be Yassen to carry it out. He belonged to Yassen after all – no other had the right to end him.

By now Yassen was gasping in breaths as if it was he who couldn't breathe, bucking into Alex's body, and at the very point Alex couldn’t stand it any further and gave in, going limp, the pressure around his throat eased. 

The air hitting his lungs coincided with Yassen coming violently inside him, slamming against his body and his cock.

The orgasm that ripped through Alex's body at that point was the most intense he'd ever experienced. He came, and came, and came, jerking against Yassen's body, covering his stomach in come and his chest in blood.

Distantly, he heard someone whimpering, and realised with faint surprise it was him.

As the force of his climax faded, the reaction of everything else hit him, and he started shaking. 

Yassen reached up, the knife back in his hand, and Alex flinched, but he was only slicing through the thongs, pulled too tight to unknot quickly.

Alex curled into a shaking ball against Yassen's chest, shuddering with the effects of the preceding minutes, and was held in secure and comforting arms, hands stroking his back, dimly conscious of a soft crooning voice murmuring soothing things to him.

Eventually, the trembling died away, and he lifted his face from Yassen's chest, half afraid that he would be berated for making a mess.

Instead, Yassen kissed him gently on the mouth and smoothed his hair back from his face. 

"It's alright," Yassen murmured. "You are okay."

Alex swallowed, throat sore and bruised. "I thought – I thought for a minute you were going to kill me," he managed, hoarsely.

Yassen frowned, and kissed him again, pulling him closer. 

"Did you think you deserved to die?" he asked, speculatively.

"No!" Alex's objection was stronger, and Yassen smiled. 

"Then why would I do such a thing?"

" _You_ might have thought I deserved it," Alex muttered. 

Yassen shifted position, settling Alex's exhausted body more snugly into his arms. 

"You will not die at my hand Alex. I promise you," he whispered.

They lay there in quiet drowsiness, heedless of passing time, or daylight. Yassen held Alex close, warm against his body, and kissed him gently, lingeringly. 

"It scared me," Alex confessed, finally, in a quiet voice still rough from the hand round his throat.

Yassen looked down at him, ran a finger down Alex's chest, tracing the line of the knife.

"Because you thought I was going to kill you?" 

Alex shook his head. "Because I would have let you," he whispered, uncomprehendingly. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you are mine?" Yassen smiled. "Or possibly because you are an idiot," he added, and after a second Alex started laughing.

He was still laughing when Yassen made him come for a second time, with hands and mouth and slyly whispered words.

The abrupt and impatient banging on the door of the apartment took them both by surprise, having equally forgotten for the moment that they were waiting for someone. 

As Yassen slid out of the bed, reaching for his clothes, he cast a glance back at Alex and smirked.

"Said I could fix your boredom."

Alex stretched, and winced. 

"Yeah, I take your point," he smiled.

\--


End file.
